The Changing Seasons ~ May


The April showers we did not have in April arrived as torrents through much of May – along with hail, sleet, thunderstorms and deep-frozen gusts. And then a few days ago winter stopped and spring happened: wall to wall sunshine and a green explosion. Seedling plants that had been languishing chillily doubled in leaf size overnight. The crop in Townsend Meadow behind the house that I’d thought was wheat quickly grew three feet and turned into barley. The lime tree canopies on the nearby Linden Walk went from pinched and niggardly to ebullient and blousy.

Suddenly all seems right with world, although this only works if you avoid all forms of mainstream media. And to that end, I have been spending a lot of time deciphering the last of wishes of long-ago ancestors, words I find I can believe. It’s also been a time, between storms, to prepare the ground at the allotment, plant out peas and erect runner bean canes, and finally make up my mind as to where all the tomato plants are going. In fact last night I thought it was at last safe to plant the outdoor ones along the south facing wall of the old privies, though I did hang a bit of fleece over the canes in  case the plants felt too shocked. The only problem with that was during the night the rat that lives under the shed tried to hijack the fleece for its nest. Drat and double drat. I was hoping it had gone away. It looks like some tomato shielding will be required later on.

So: onwards and upwards. June tomorrow. In the meantime, here was May:

















The Changing Seasons: May 2021

49 thoughts on “The Changing Seasons ~ May

  1. Your skies look like ours of the past few weeks, so I can imagine the weather you’ve had.
    I hate rats with a passion, and since watching a heart-breaking documentary about their impact on NZ’s native fauna, my loathing has only grown.

    1. Hm. Rats as the other master race. I don’t like them either. I especially don’t like their nibbling holes in my tomatoes which the shed one did last year.

      1. That is such a frighteningly accurate description. NZ is aiming to be predator-free by 2050; a big ambition, but I’m heartened by how many wonderful people are volunteering to get involved in their own areas.

      2. Thanks Tish; it’s a huge undertaking, but we’re losing our native flora and fauna at such alarming rates we have to do something very soon.

  2. We had that spring explosion in the middle of May and then it all turned around and we got a full week of freezing, drenching rain. I think tomorrow will be warmer again. It almost got warm today. The sun was out for a few minutes, but the Duke came home wet, so it must be raining again. Tomorrow is June. We are hoping for spring to come back but I’m betting we’ll go directly from very cold nasty, windy, rainy to very hot and very humid. It’s hard to know. But I’m pretty sure we are due for that hot soupy weather we get in June and the beginning of July with cooling later in the summer.

    Your greenery looks wonderful. I think our plants got confused and some of them have just given up hope. It’s good to see that other places have weird weather and stranger seasons too.

  3. A great photo journal of a rather strange May, weather-wise 🙂 It honestly felt more like March didn’t it? And then suddenly, just in time for the holiday weekend, we seem to have switched from early spring to mid summer, overnight! All very odd, but the sunshine is welcome. Although having said that, you’ve found some beautiful images in the raindrops on the blossoms and the towering rain clouds.

    1. It was that wretched polar vortex giving us all the chilling weather. Hopefully it’s gone back where it belongs. In fact I read there are record amounts of ice in parts of the Arctic. Think we could do without blistering temps though.

    1. May was really very hair-raising for gardeners – lots of shivering (and battered) seedlings, but it looks like things are coming good with some warmth. And all of a sudden!

  4. These are just lovely. Those wooded green lanes! My goodness! When we eventually come for tea, you will be ”forced” to take us for a walk there.

    1. Not far to go either – only across the road to the Linden Field. . All the lime trees were planted around 1860 by the town’s doctor. He must have envisaged that one day it would make a very lovely promenading space. The railway line would have originally gone beside it, so it’s very much quieter and less smutty these days.

    1. Indeed, the seasons may dodge about a bit – they always have – but the only reliability now is in the ongoing follow-the-un-science-imperative that has gripped the western world. It’s all very wearing.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.